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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717569">The Sacrifice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem'>Mochas N Mayhem (KoohiiCafe)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Violence, Death, Demon Summoning, Demons, F/M, Happy Ending, Human Sacrifice, Lesson 16 (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic, Rebirth, Season 2 (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:48:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Devi has known for <i>years</i> that her sister wants her dead; only <i>one</i> of them can inherit the family business, and Khaterah is determined to have it for herself. Devi has fended off more attempts on her life than she can keep track off, and it's almost <i>always</i> her twin behind them. So she knows that when she wakes up with a throbbing head and every limb tied down firmly, it'll be her sister she finds gloating over her win. It doesn't matter; she'll find a way to escape, a way to free herself, as she has every time time before.</p>
<p>Except her sister seems to have gone mad; when asked what her plan is, Khaterah says that in return for sacrificing a human life, she will be able to forge a contract with a demon. It'll be two birds in one stone; the power of a demon behind her while her biggest rival has finally been eliminated.</p>
<p>Devi has a very bad feeling about all of this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diavolo/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Sacrifice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to another Devi story, this one inspired by a prompt I saw on tumblr, by <a href="https://cosmic-whorror.tumblr.com/post/638154076304113664/prompt-you-are-made-a-human-sacrifice-by-another#notes">Cosmic-Whorror</a>! I knew as soon as I saw it that I <i>needed</i> to write a response, and actually <i>started</i> immediately, it's just been percolating in my thoughts until I got the first part of it done!</p>
<p><b>Warning:</b> This story contains familial violence, blood, death, and more. In the end, things <i>will</i> turn out well for those we know and love, but it'll get very grimm before anything gets better.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing she became aware of as consciousness slowly returned was <em>pain</em>- throbbing, sharp, blinding, crippling <em>pain </em>at her temple, rather reminiscent of having an ice pick driven repeatedly into one’s skull. The second was the itchy feel of <em>felt</em> beneath her and against her skin where her costume bared it. It was a feeling she knew well enough, although normally not against the bared skin of her <em>back</em>, but she’d been in casinos all her life; she knew <em>exactly</em> what the top of a felt covered table felt like. And the third thing she realized?</p><p>There was <em>rope</em> tied far too tightly around her wrists and ankles both, tight enough that all she could feel of her hands and feet was the odd, tingling sensation of pins and needles that came after circulation had been cut off for too long. The rope had her stretched out on the table, arms and legs separated and pulled out and up to either side. She considered testing the bounds, but she could hear movement not too far away; if she could keep whoever had caught her thinking she was still out, then maybe she could-</p><p>“Give it up,” a familiar voice said, and Devi swore internally. <em>Shit</em> that did not bode well for her,  shit, shit, <em>shit</em>. “You can’t fool me; I know you’re awake.”</p><p>Suppressing a grimace, Devi opened her eyes slowly, having to blink against even the dim lighting of whichever casino her twin sister had dragged her to; even that slightest added brightness was enough to increase the ache in her head tenfold, to a point that it took a great deal of willpower not to groan at the pain. She refused to give her sister the satisfaction, refused to show weakness to the other woman; pounding headache or not, she would show nothing but a strong front.</p><p>“You know,” she drawled slowly, and once she could fully open her eyes and <em>keep</em> them open, she turned her head to look around. It was a casino, but not one she recognized. It looked like a little hole in the wall place, nothing nearly as grand and showy as her mother or sister preferred; likely a business dedicated to some of their… <em>dirtier</em> activities. She continued, voice full of cheer. “If you wanted a visit from your beloved older sister, all you had to do was ask; I <em>always</em> have time for my <em>little</em> sister.”</p><p>“You don’t have nearly as much time as you <em>think</em>,” Khaterah answered, and Devi tilted her head back to look as the clack of heels heralded her sister’s movement towards the table. The other woman was dressed casually (<em>a stark contrast to Devi herself; Khaterah’s minions had, rather rudely, nabbed her between performances at the strip club and left her in her costume</em>), black jeans and boots, a leather jacket over a simple red top- all which had likely cost hundreds of dollars a piece; her sister never did <em>anything</em> cheaply when it came to herself.</p><p>“Oh,” she commented back, her tone easy, unthreatened. “What makes you say that? You can’t kill me and we both know it; if you leave even a single trace of evidence that leads back to you, you’ll lose mother’s inheritance by default.”</p><p>Not that that had always been the case, but after Khaterah’s first several attempts to kill Devi had not only failed, but had also been clumsy and obvious as to the perpetrator, their mother had added that stipulation to their inheritance.</p><p>“They can’t declare you dead if there’s no body to be found,” Khaterah said, and the smirk she gave Devi was… disturbing, really. The implications of that statement were crystal clear, and she swore internally once more.</p><p>Cons: Khaterah was clearly ready to make her move, and Devi had neither much time to wiggle her way out of it, nor any resources at her disposal at the moment.</p><p>Pros: There was nothing in the dingy casino they were in that looked to be useable for destroying a body. No furnaces nearby, no smell of chemicals, so it wasn’t like her sister was ready to get rid of her body right this instant.</p><p>“Well it doesn’t look like you’re planning on burning my body down to ash and bone- not here at least.” Devi grimaced at their surroundings, shifting a bit on the felt of the table beneath her. It was clearly low quality, coarse and torn in places, and was badly dirty; she didn’t want to think about what some of the stains she was probably laying on might be. “Where <em>are</em> we anyway? This place is disgusting even by common gang standards, much less <em>mother’s</em>.”</p><p>“It’s not mother’s,” the other woman said with a shrug, and she stopped near the middle of the table, her gaze running all Devi’s form. “It’s not even mine, actually; it belongs to a rival gang. Once we’re done here, it’s going to have a little <em>accident</em>. I’d say it’s a pity, but for once, you’re right; it really <em>is</em> disgusting. Burning it down will be doing the city a favor.”</p><p>So fire <em>was</em> part of the equation. Good to know. She needed to keep Khaterah talking, both to learn as much as she could, <em>and </em>to give her own people time to come after her. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but it had been long enough that she’d missed the second act of the show; they would be looking for her by now.</p><p>“Don’t tell me; you’re going to write the whole endeavour off of your taxes as ‘charity?’” she said dryly; her sister’s smirk grew, but rather than take the bait, she replied,</p><p>“Don't think I don’t know what you’re doing.” She paused, long enough to snap her fingers; as one of her minions came scurrying over, carrying something wrapped in a thick, dark fabric, she continued. “You’re not going to save yourself by trying to talk me to distraction. I have <em>one goal</em> tonight, and it won’t take long to fulfill.”</p><p>Khaterah turned away from the table, and the minion held the package out for her as she deftly pulled loose the coarse, thin ties that held the wrap in place; her movements were slow and careful as she unfolded the fabric from the item. Devi couldn’t quite see what was within until her sister had lifted it up from the wrap, holding it by its hilt as she looked it over; a dagger, dark, decorated, and deadly in appearance. The blade itself was a dark grey, almost black metal, curving backwards from the hilt with a deadly serrated edge; there was an odd <em>glow</em> to the length, a line of violet that ran thinly down the blade, although there was no visible power source. The hilt itself was black as night, small silver detailing barely visible between her sister’s fingers, and wicked looking spikes thrust out at both ends, both protecting the blade’s wielder as well as furthering its own threat. Khaterah took a moment to gracefully move the dagger this way, then that, admiring it for her own pleasure; she turned back to the table next, and shifted it for <em>Devi’s</em> viewing pleasure, dragging the blade through the air bare inches away from Devi’s body.</p><p>“Beautiful, isn’t it,” she commented, and there was true appreciation in her voice and eyes. She wasn’t wrong either; the blade <em>was</em> beautiful, eerily so in the way that it glowed, no power source in sight, no seam lines visible on the dagger to hide one. If she wasn’t one thousand percent certain that her sister intended to use it to <em>murder</em> her, she’d likely appreciate it herself. As it stood…</p><p>“Purple is more my color than yours,” she told her sister, and she pulled at the ropes that held her wrists, trying to keep the movement as discrete as she could. “Why don’t you let me hold onto it, it would fit my aesthetic quite nicely.”</p><p>“You’ll become <em>quite familiar</em> with it soon enough, dear sister,” Khaterah answered, and lowered the dagger to tauntingly run the blade of it down the bare skin of Devi’s neck; she pressed with just enough force to hurt, but not enough to break the skin- yet. Devi had no doubt that it would be slicing through her soon enough, if she didn’t manage <em>some</em> kind of escape.</p><p>"Typically," Devi returned casually, biting back something of a hiss. Khaterah had indeed been careful not to break skin, but even without seeing, she knew an angry welt would already be rising on her skin in the dagger's wake. At least she wasn't cutting through her costume. She continued, "to become familiar with a blade, one would have to first <em>hold</em> the blade." </p><p>Khaterah rolled her eyes and, apparently done with the banter, let the blade of the dagger just <em>barely</em> slice into the skin above Devi's collarbone before pulling it back. </p><p>"We could continue trading barbs back and forth until the rescue team that you think is coming fails to show, but as satisfying as watching the hope in your eyes die would be, I'd much rather watch <em>you</em> die," the younger woman said, her smirk smug. Dammit. </p><p>"And here I thought we had something <em>special</em>. Twins <em>are</em> supposed to be the best of friends, aren't they?" Keep her talking, that was her only option right now. The longer Khaterah talked, the longer it would take her to try and <em>actually</em> stab Devi. </p><p>(<em>Yes, because there was even the faintest chance she would miss? There was no 'try;' when Khaterah was ready, she was <strong>going</strong> to stab Devi, and it was going to hurt like a mother fucker.</em>)</p><p>"At least tell me what finally motivated you to break mother's enforced truce. Inquiring minds want to know, and as it seems I don't have much time left, perhaps you'll indulge me this?" She let her tone turn wheedling, forcing nothing of the pain of the dagger's cut to show in either voice or expression. The other woman's smirk grew, but she did indeed give Devi an indulgent, if smug, look. </p><p>"It <em>is</em> traditional to grant a last wish to those to be executed. I <em>suppose</em> I can grant you this one last request." Khaterah hummed lightly and lowered the blade once more; she ran it over Devi's skin as she talked, seeking out everywhere that her costume exposed, once again cutting hard enough to bite, but not break skin. </p><p>"I've been having <em>dreams</em> lately- strangely unusual dreams, of a peculiar fantastical nature. Not the sort of thing I care much for, as you know. I ignored them at first, but as they continued, I began to realize something; the dreams had a steady continuity to them, and while the subjects of the dreams were fantastical, they all seemed to follow as much logic as anything in the waking world would. If I accepted the fantasy element of the dreams to be real, then the dreams were just as understandable and realistic as, say... a <em>memory</em> might be."</p><p>It wasn't exactly easy to bite back the gasps and hisses each scratch of the blade tried to pull from her lips as it dragged along her skin, but it <em>was</em> something that she was well-versed in; she didn't let a single sound escape, and she kept her expression calm and curious as she listened. <em>That</em> was what had gotten Khaterah to actually come after her, despite the risk of losing her inheritance if she were found culpable in her sister's death? <em>Dreams</em>? It sounded ridiculous, insane. Khaterah was a woman of cold logic and efficiency, she had <em>never</em> had time for anything that wasn't absolutely necessary for her to advance towards earning their mother's place at the head of the family business. </p><p>"<em>Dreams</em>?" she echoed, and she let her disbelief paint the word. "And here I thought the only thing you ever dreamt of was money and blood." </p><p>"Oh that was part of it," the other woman answered, and laughed low. She pulled the dagger back, pausing to admire the marks she'd undoubtedly left on Devi's skin. She brought the blade back down, this time focusing on one area now, the top of her chest; the blade sliced into her flesh this time, and Devi had to bite down on her lip <em>hard</em> to keep any pained sounds from leaving her. Khaterah continued, "Blood, I mean. I dreamt of a war started over the most foolish things- a war started for <em>love</em>, a forbidden one between a fatuous child of a girl, and a man from another world."</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, it hurt. Her sister was following some sort of pattern now, that much she could tell, even if she couldn't tell <em>what</em> the pattern was, or what she was slicing into Devi's flesh. She had to force herself to breathe slowly, deeply, forcing the stinging pain down as best she could. It was almost enough to distract her from the fact that her sister- that <em>Khaterah</em>, of all people- head dreamt of <em>love</em>.</p><p>Khaterah didn't believe in love. Khaterah didn't believe in any emotion, didn't believe in anything that could possibly hinder her in achieving her goals. But here she was, telling Devi that she'd dreamt of <em>love</em>, and that it had given her the push she needed to finally risk everything to kill her own twin. In any other situation, Devi would have laughed. Maybe she would have laughed anyway, if Khaterah wasn't still carving into her chest. </p><p>"I know how it sounds," her sister said, and laughed again. "Really, it was rather <em>satisfying</em> to watch as the girl-child lost everything because of her love. And it was <em>quite</em> the show; her family gathered around her to protect her, rebelling against their father who had sentenced her to death for her love. They were so full of hope, and righteous anger and rage. It was the kind of story you might see in some ridiculous movie, appealing to the masses with such drivel." </p><p>She paused again, the blade pulled back from her cutting, and Devi took the moment to swallow thickly. Her chest was <em>burning</em>. The cuts weren't deep yet, nothing that would threaten her life even if left unattended for a time; they were cuts made to <em>hurt</em>, surface-level slices to mark out some pattern. She hissed as, in the moment that Devi had been distracted, her sister wiped a scratchy towel over her chest, pushing down on the broken skin to sop up the blood with a smirk. </p><p>If she got out of this alive- <em>when</em> she got out of this alive- she was going to wipe that damn smirk off her sister's face, and she was going to <em>enjoy it</em>.</p><p>"Then it all went south," Khaterah started again once she was satisfied with the blood she'd wiped away. She began again, slower this time, as she spoke. "As all such futile dreams do. Their father sent all he had under his command at the girl and her family; he was <em>ruthless</em> in destroying any dreams the family might have had. The family's forces were decimated, struck down in cold blood by those they'd once called brethren. And the girl for whom the war had been started? She was struck down as well, her father's sentence carried out despite everything her beloved family had done to try and save her." She chuckled, slicing particularly deeply as she did, her smirk growing. "It was a lovely ending to the sappy little tale. At least, it <em>would</em> have been." </p><p>What was the point of this? What did any of this dream have to do with <em>Devi</em>? Other than perhaps the fact that while Khaterah reveled in the dream family's loss, Devi certainly didn't? That if they had been part of this drama, they would have been on opposing sides? Split, the two of them, as they always had been. Born together, but torn apart from the moment they took their first breaths, their mother raising them only to pit them against one another. </p><p>"Their father thought her dead." Khaterah continued her tale, her voice amused. "Yet she somehow survived the killing blow long enough for one of her brothers to take her dying body to another for help. To someone who should have been an enemy. Low and behold, despite having just fought in a war for freedom and love, her brother groveled to his enemy, begged for his enemy's mercy, for his enemy to save his dying sister. Then he swore his fealty to his enemy. He saved his sister, but in doing so, he doomed himself and the rest of his family to servitude to another. All for <em>love</em>, he traded one master for another."</p><p>"<em>What</em>," Devi snapped without meaning too, "does this have to do with <em>us</em>, dear sister, pray tell?" Her sister was slicing deeper now, cuts that didn't hurt the same way the previous ones had, and the lack of immediate pain told her more than she might have wished to know. It was fraying at her control, fraying at her calm facade. By the look on her sister's face, Khaterah knew it, and reveled in that as much as she had her story. </p><p>"Well," her sister chuckled, and made a cut deeper than the rest, stealing Devi's breath from her lungs. "Do you remember how I said that these dreams were fantastical in nature?" She paused for barely a millisecond, continuing easily. "This girl-child and her family? You might have heard of them before. Her eldest brother, the one who delivered his brethren into servitude for love? His name is Lucifer." </p><p>She actually <em>stopped</em> this time, her eyes dancing with something like glee, waiting for Devi's reaction. In return, Devi forced her expression blank, refusing to give the other woman <em>any</em> such satisfaction, even as shock, confusion, and disbelief coursed through her. Her sister was going to murder her over a dream about <em>the devil</em>?</p><p><em>What</em>. The <em>fuck</em>? </p><p>She must have been quiet too long, because Khaterah frowned; she sliced into Devi's shoulder, away from whatever mark she'd been working on, asking almost petulantly, "Do you truly have no response? Have you grown slow and dull in the time since we last played like this?" </p><p>Devi ignored the last question, instead injecting as much sarcasm into her voice as she could, speaking as <em>steadily</em> as she could manage, to ask, "You haven't, perchance, been imbibing of the drugs your minions sell, have you? That certainly sounds like the raving fever dream of someone who has."</p><p>Khaterah <em>snarled</em>. </p><p>Well, at least Devi had won <em>one</em> victory, nevermind that it was feeling more and more like she was going to lose the final battle itself. She managed something of a smirk up at her sister, even as Khaterah pulled the dagger back, raising it with purpose in her eyes. It was warning enough that when she stabbed it back down, this time directly into the meat of one of Devi's bound arms, Devi managed not to scream out at the pain, managed to bite it back even as she bit <em>through</em> her own lip. It <em>wasn't</em> enough to keep the sting of tears from her eyes for the first time, nor was it enough to keep her breathing steady; her chest shuddered as she tried to breathe through the pain, all four of her limbs straining at the ropes holding her down as she tried instinctively to escape. The dagger didn't stay in her arm long, her sister withdrawing it immediately, but that gave no comfort; the serrated edge of the blade hurt as much coming out as it had going in. </p><p>"Since it seems you still don't understand the gravity of your situation, sister, I will cut to the chase. Whether you choose to believe me or not, I speak the truth; the dreams were not dreams, they were <em>memories</em>. The memories of the girl who doomed her family for love." The words were growled now; Khaterah put aside all teasing as she went back to the marks on Devi's chest, cutting efficiently and quickly now. "The enemy that Lucifer swore fealty to was the prince of hell. After doing some rather grueling and thorough research, I found that this 'prince of hell' still lives today. They call him Diavolo, and it is said that if you possess a very special blade, you can summon him and bind him to your will." </p><p>The younger woman pulled the blade back once more, holding it aloft and rotating it so that Devi could take in the entire dagger. Suddenly, Devi knew exactly where this was going, and <em>why</em> it pertained to her sister's hallucinations.</p><p>"It's called the Night Dagger," Khaterah told her, and her voice almost sounded... respectful? After a moment, she lowered the dagger, holding it over Devi's chest. Over her <em>heart</em> specifically. "Of course, in order to bind the demon to your will, a <em>sacrifice</em> is required. Whether you have or have not grown dull in our time apart, even <em>you</em> should understand how this has brought us both to this moment." </p><p>"Oh I understand <em>perfectly</em>," Devi growled, forcing down everything but her anger and wrath, <em>forcing</em> her shaking voice as steady as possible. "You've gone insane, and you're <em>foolishly</em> sacrificing everything over a fucking <em>hallucination</em>." </p><p>She was going to die, at her sister's hand, because of a damned <em>hallucination</em>. </p><p>"Believe what you will," Khaterah said, and smirked. "Now we say goodbye, dear sister."</p><p>There was no more delay after that. Before Devi could even breathe in to reply, Khaterah brought the blade down. The world burned away with the worst pain she had <em>ever</em> felt, leaving her nothing <em>but</em> the pain. Moments later, even that faded.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, many thanks to my betas; my wife <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyhl">Gyhl</a> and m'darlin' <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomFox/pseuds/PhantomFox">PhantomFox</a>, who get to put up with me shoving stuff at them and praying that it's okay!</p>
<p>Devi also features in my Royalty AU, '<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595563">To Reign in Hell</a>,' my Soulmate AU, '<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302362">Nine Parts of a Whole</a>', and my series '<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760449">Of Love and Demons Loved</a>,' set in the normal Obey Me universe. If you're curious what she looks like, I have a <a href="https://panickedpansexualprincess.tumblr.com/post/615583468262457344/a-visualization-post-for-my-mc-devi-from-obey-me">character visual reference post</a> over on tumblr!</p>
<p>If you're on tumblr, you can find me at <a href="http://PanickedPansexualPrincess.tumblr.com">PanickedPansexualPrincess</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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